Olivia had spotted the officer's driver and gave a gentle nod towards the man after he had floundered around to gather his captain's belongings from the trunk of the luxurious vehicle. The chestnut-haired driver with short locks waved back to the woman like an idiot before clearing his throat and dropping his arm quickly. The younger looking male became pale upon seeing his captain's eyes flash a warning as the blonde glared over his shoulder. There was no doubt that Johan was intimidating and had control over his men without voicing any command.
Dark ocean blues shot back upon Olivia's form once again. He stared at her beneath the brim of his cap. His head turned only slightly to watch the priest and boy continue to wander off into the woods. If there was a trail there, he did not know of it nor did any of the scouts. It would be something he would need to have investigated. Having such a place exists without knowing could become a problem for security in the future.
Johan was an officer and not so much a gentleman. The military gave him everything he needed; food, water, a roof over his head, clothes on his back, money appropriate for his rank and accomplishments but most of all, a structured schedule he could adhere too. For a man like him, it was the most important thing. This made tolerating others difficult. Unfortunately for this household, the officer was on a mission. He cared not for the woman's emotions or comfort. He was given an assignment and planned to succeed in it to the fullest.
The Captain took long strides towards Olivia, swiftly closing the distance between them. His cold unnerving stare rested upon her face and soaked in colors of her emerald orbs. The officer watched them widen as his shadow slipped over her form like a bad omen. The smaller fraulein could not only see but feel just how tiny she was compared to him. This scenario forced the shorter woman to take a cautious step back from the edge of the small wooden platform. Her reaction to his presence caused Johan to smirk slightly. Immediately he knew at that moment she would not defy the orders that laid in his briefcase.
Briefly, Johan's expression was overlooked by the young woman. She was still reeling in the size difference between the two of them. Standing on the wooden platform just small enough to fit three people, she was still only up to his shoulder in height. She had only met one other person in her life that could match the officer's height. His name was Harold and a good drinking buddy of her father's. A jolly man who enjoyed carrying the local kids around like sacks of potatoes. A genuinely sweet lumberjack who was taken by God during an accident at the lumber mill they lived close too.
It was then his voice broke the silence and spoke in devil's tongue, causing the woman's thoughts to snap back to the blonde giant in front of her. The loud eruption caused Olivia to flinch and her green visions upward. Now that the Commander was closer, the American could get a better view. 'He was...' Before her mind could soak in his handsome appearance, the man spoke loudly, clearly and swiftly. "Ich habe mit Aufträgen aus der Fuhrer gekommen, um die Kontrolle über diese Farm für die Bundeswehr übernehmen. Ich erwarte Ihre Zusammenarbeit. Wenn Sie bleiben möchten, dann können Sie mir dienen und meine Soldaten."
Olivia let out a breath when he finished his statement. Despite his chiseled jawline and sharp nose, which complemented his athletic form, the woman didn't know how to convey that she didn't speak German. His gaze seemed to reflect his impatience and narrow towards her as he too, was left a bit confused. A thick hand smoothed out the breast of his grey dress uniform. Standing there not saying anything, befuddled him a bit. Honestly, it was her expression that threw Johan off. 'Was she confused? Did she not understand me', he wondered. The officer cleared his throat. Something was amiss. 'Was she a simpleton taken in by the old lady? If that was the case, then her good looks were a complete waste.' Even he, of all people, found her sharp chin and high cheekbones to be pleasant. Her large green eyes were quite alluring; then to top off everything, the officer did appreciate a fully developed woman. The German Captain knew himself to be the serious sort but he wasn't a dead man.
Johan released a heavy sigh as he began to ask if she had understood what his intentions were. He could practically feel the tiny prickles of irritation tickling the hairs on the back of his neck. Speaking in his native dialect in his own country, the man would have never expected the young woman to throw up both palms in a defensive fashion so swiftly. It was a sign for him to cease to speak and he complied with an arched brow.
"I sincerely apologize but I don't speak German. Sprechen sie Englisch", she asked in a soft, almost nonexistent German accent. Her eyes filled with worry as her voice quivered nervously. A large monster of a man, who carried the rank of captain on his black collar of his grey dress uniform, was standing so near she could already smell the soft spice of his cologne. If he didn't speak English, the long-haired brunette doubted he'd have the patience for Father Grün to return if someone had to fetch him. The pit of her stomach dropped and her knees grew a little weak. She was never good at handling strangers, let alone those who possibly couldn't understand her.
Johan righted himself as he felt his jaw slowly drop. This... was definitely not what he was expecting. The man shook his head as he felt the idea of an older grandmother caring for him, inevitably fleeting. Now he had to deal with someone who didn't understand a word he was saying. The German officer looked the brunette over once again. From her face down to her bare feet. He was not certain as to why she was barefoot. That thought kept reoccurring in his never-ending thoughts. 'The weather was not the season for such a thing and she was a grown woman as well; so why did she not act like one? What she not right in the head', he asked himself once more. With her question presented in a trembling tone, Johan was taken back for a moment. It seemed she was unsure how to even ask if he spoke English, in his own dialect.
The German couldn't help but pinch the bridge of his nose. 'English', he questioned himself once again as he had to reach into the back of his mind and try to calmly, remember his years in school. Was she from England or the United States; was another question to pop up into the forefront of his mind. Germany was not at war with either of them but his commanders did fear England would involve themselves. They had to protect France but America, for the most part, should stay out of it. With all that aside, he had never met someone from either country. He briefly entertained the idea of sitting her down and having a discussion in the differences in culture later. It was an amusing thought. However, promptly, Johan questioned himself in thinking he misunderstood the information given to him but that wasn't the case. He remembered distinctly being informed that the wife of the late Major Bäcker owned the farm. The blonde was actually looking forward to meeting the woman and discuss her husband's achievements.
"Ja, I speak English", he spoke up after a moment in almost a hiss. The man was uncomfortable. The giant reached down and slid the thin leather briefcase upon the small three-person deck. The snap of the brass fastenings caused Olivia to flinch. In a sweeping motion, the man before her reached out his orders and decree, his other hand became a tight fist that he instinctively set behind his back. His movements were sharp and startling. He grew slightly amused at the way she reacted.
"The German Command will be taking control of this farm; during such a time that it may be of no use, it shall be returned to its owner. We would find your cooperation most appreciative in this matter. I was, however, informed an elderly Misses Bäcker lived here. Is she within the home, or is it you who is handling her affairs at this age?" Johan held no expression. His voice was sterile but his words were clear. His mind switching from German to English was a strenuous task; the man was a bit of a perfectionist. He wanted to make sure this little fraulein understood the weight of the orders he held in his hand without question.
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